


Roots

by kifiyathewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Healing, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Last Drabble Writer Standing, Post-War, Therapy, parkweasel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29599920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kifiyathewriter/pseuds/kifiyathewriter
Summary: Surprisingly, he didn’t revile her for her past; rather, he’d seen her mistitched seams and recognized something of himself that aligned with her own jagged edges. He’d helped her, stone by stone, to rebuild the bridge she’d haphazardly destroyed...
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Roots

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction, and any/all elements of Harry Potter do not belong to me.  
> WARNING: Please heed the archive warning tagged. Major Character Death is mentioned but not described.
> 
> First, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the wonderful admins for hosting. This Drabble was submitted for LDWS - Round 3: Rare Pairs.
> 
> The biggest thanks goes to everyone involved in my writing journey, thus far. I would not be here without all of your support.

> Title: Roots  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: No Archive Warnings, Implied past self-harm

Percy sat staring at a snag in the carpet of the waiting area of a muggle therapist. The subtle imperfection of the grey woven thread held his attention longer than was required, but he couldn’t help being transfixed. Though, it wasn’t long before his attention was directed elsewhere when the creaking sound of a door being opened assaulted his mind.

He’d waited ages for this other person to walk through the small hallway leading into the room. In the interim, Percy felt his long-forgotten heart stutter to life. The organ banged and clattered around the cavity of his chest in a way he couldn’t help but liken to how his father’s muggle car struggled to start after periods of disuse. A cold sweat slid along the expanse of his spine, and Percy wondered how this unknown person had awakened something within him. He’d been in such a state since Fred’s death; the guilt of his mistakes eating away at his sanity, while his inability to control his own mental spiral left him to free fall. It was George, of all people, who’d dragged him here. George who’d lost so much. Percy had been unable to deny his request. Suffice to say, he was startled when Pansy Parkinson walked into the room.

* * *

Pansy knew she was an absolute wreck; she’d recognized that fact long before her friends did, and when she could no longer reconcile with what her life had become, she’d left the Wizarding World, seeking refuge among muggles.

That didn’t equate to being healed. No, Pansy had tread the long and winding road littered with the ruins of every truth she’d once known. She’d fought tooth and nail to keep herself together, but the scars that littered her hands and arms outwardly reflected her inner turmoil. When she’d reached the frayed end of the rope she’d long held, Pansy turned to therapy, and in doing so, reconnected with Percy Weasley.

Surprisingly, he didn’t revile her for her past; rather, he’d seen her mistitched seams and recognized something of himself that aligned with her own jagged edges. He’d helped her, stone by stone, to rebuild the bridge she’d haphazardly destroyed, back to their world. In return, she’d helped him to realize how blessed he was to have the boundless love and support of his family.

The transition had been...awkward. Pansy, used to being alone, struggled with allowing so many people into her life, afraid she’d become attached, but Molly had been a fierce defender of both their relationship and Pansy, herself. The two women connected through baking, and when Pansy attempted to hide her scars, Molly simply grabbed her hand, looked her in the eyes and told her how grateful she was that Percy’d found such a lovely person to call home.

* * *

Their daughter was born on a brisk winter morning. Pansy initially refused, but Percy was insistent that she have a name with roots, something to hold her steady. So they’d decided on Daisy, for new beginnings.


End file.
